Belief Over Misery
by CherylSongbow
Summary: Susan has an encounter with a stranger.


There's something different about her.

She dresses like all the others, talks like all the others, mingles and chatters and giggles like they do…but there's more to her. I'm not sure what it is at first, but then I begin to see things; little things. The way she carries herself is not that of a young woman at a party, but of someone noble, like a queen. She's graceful in her step, and when she dances her feet often move in more complicated patterns than those of her companions, as if she is unconsciously doing a dance she learned years ago. Her speech continues to slip into a more refined tone, though she covers it up when she notices. And there is another thing, perhaps more prevalent than anything else, though it seems to be noticed the least. There is a sadness in her eyes, and her laughter is not quite as giddy as the laughter of those around her.

She looks familiar, but I can't place her. Nor can I manage to approach her; she is surrounded by admiring young men and giggling girls.

While hovering on the edges of the group, I overhear a bit of conversation.

"Your brother is so cute," one of the girls beside her comments. "So charming and gallant…what's his name again? Edward?"

The smile slips. "Edmund."

"Oh, yes, of course," her companion chatters. "I had hoped he might actually be here tonight; where is he?"

"He won't be here," she replies, her smile completely gone. "He was in the railway accident a year ago."

""Oh, sorry to hear that," the girl says, in a tone that implies she is not very interested. "May and I _had_ hoped to see him again; he was just so handsome. Though Martin looks a bit like him, doesn't he? He's certainly more of a partier…" She chatters on thoughtlessly.

I now remember where I have seen her. She is one of Them, one of the Four; though not as much one of them as she has been. I've spoken with her older brother once, three years ago. He confided that he was worried about her; that she was becoming too absorbed in the World.

She takes advantage of her companion being distracted to escape, going out to the terrace. I hesitate, but then a voice urges me to follow her, and I do.

There is no one on the terrace but us. I see that she is crying, and I hang back, not wanting to intrude. It takes her a little while to see me, and she jumps, startled.

"Are you all right?" I ask, as gently as I can.

"Yes." She bites her lip. "I think so."

"I was sorry to hear about your family," I tell her. "They were good people."

She nods, and I can see tears forming. I quickly pull out a handkerchief and offer it to her. She takes it and sits down on the stone bench, trying to stop crying.

"No, I don't think I'm all right," she says finally. "I miss them so much; I didn't realize—but it's too late. I can't be with them _now_. Lu was right, but it's too late. He wouldn't let me in now, not after what I've done."

"Yes, He would," I say with conviction.

She looks up at me, mascara smeared across her cheeks. "How do you know He would? How do you know _about_ Him?"

"There are a lot of people who know about Him," I respond. "Your siblings managed to put the pieces together, and I did the same when I heard about what they did."

"You _know_?" she gasps. "But…"

"You sister told me," I say, sitting down beside her. "She wanted me to talk to you…just in case something happened to them."

She is silent a while, staring off into the distance. Finally, she shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. I didn't believe…and now it's too late."

"It wasn't too late for your brother," I say quietly.

She is silent again. Then she abruptly gets up. "Please excuse me," she says, before hurrying off, back inside.

I remain where I am for a while, but then something urges me to go after her, so I do. I find her in the coatroom, gathering her things.

"I have to go," she says simply. "I've already said goodbye to the hostess." Then she mutters, so softly I can hardly hear her, "I should never have come to this stupid party."

"One more thing," I tell her. I find what I am looking for in the pocket of my own coat. Her younger brother gave it to me for safekeeping, just the day before they went to the train station. I give it to her.

She stares at the small coin in her hand, stamped with a lion. I can see that she is trying hard not to start crying again. "Thank you," she finally says in a whisper. She closes her hand protectively around the coin. Then she realizes that she is still holding my handkerchief, and she offers it back to me.

Seized by a sudden mischievous impulse, I tell her, "Keep it. You need it more than I do."

She gives me a weak smile, tears forming. She quickly blinks them away and, with a quick goodbye, hurries out of the room. I hear her in the hall, and then the door opens and closes. She is gone, and I can only hope that what I said did some good.

***

Three days later, I receive a package in the mail. I open it to find the statuette of a lion, with a note that reads,

_I went to church yesterday; they were talking about forgiveness. I've also talked with some people, and I think I can do what needs to be done. Thank you for helping me see Him again._

_Sincerely,_

_S. P. the Gentle_

As I read the note, I smile. It is a hard road ahead of her, but I'm sure she'll make it. After all, He was nudging her in the right direction from the beginning, and I know that He will stay with her, as He stays with everyone.

He always does.


End file.
